


A walk in the gardens

by ChocoNut



Series: Wooing his wench [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diverges in 4x1, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Wooing, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Brienne meets him in the garden. Jaime tries to flirt, and while he doesn't fail entirely, his wench doesn't swoon either.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Wooing his wench [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825348
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	A walk in the gardens

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this second instalment too. Thank you for reading :)

Strolling up and down in the midst of greenery was a good way to keep his thighs in shape and muscles in a working condition. He had touched forty and small things like this would go a long way towards keeping him fit and alive for many more years.

 _Yes,_ Jaime huffed to himself, _a healthy, brisk walk a day would keep Maester Qyburn away._

But pacing back and forth aimlessly with his pulse rising and anxiety surging up his chest was no good. It was only going to make him pay frequent visits to the old healer.

And that, he could do without.

For the fourth time in what had been about ten minutes or so of waiting, he craned his neck to scan the entrance. And this time, to his relief, he wasn’t disappointed.

“There you are.” He held out his arm as soon as she approached him. “I knew you’d come,” he said, bursting with the confidence that hadn’t been holding his hand until she arrived.

Brienne examined his arm as if it were a noose, ready to be tightened around her neck to choke her to death.

“Come on,” he encouraged, gently nudging her side with his elbow. “I don’t bite.” After a bit of self-inspection, he amended himself, “Maybe I did, a long time ago, in our early days together, but I’m not that man anymore.”

With some reluctance, she slid her arm into his and they set out on a lush trail with flowering shrubs along the sides, beauty and fragrance surrounding them.

“Go on, Ser Jaime. Tell me.” Her free hand clenched to a fist, her gait, awkward, not just because the dress gave her little comfort, she didn’t at all appear to be a woman out for a stroll with her man. “Why have you called me here?”

“To get to know you better.” His attention was drawn to a rose bush to his left. “Forgive me, my lady, I ought to have presented you with a rose, perhaps--”

“I detest roses,” she cut him short, her expression, straight and steely instead of the girlish blush she’d given him a glimpse of at the hall. 

“Any other flower then?” He wanted to engage in lengthy conversations with her, to find out about her likes and dislikes. “We have many beautiful--”

She dragged him to a halt. “Why?”

“Why… what?”

“All these years, you’ve led a life of supposed celibacy, sworn yourself off a wife, a domestic life, your responsibilities as a son and heir and your inheritance. All for the sake of--” He could almost sense her mouth ‘ _your sister’,_ but she stopped short, shutting her eyes, then opening them. “What has caused you to change your mind now?”

Jaime thought over the answer in his mind. Numerous reasons, there were, so many that he’d need his other hand, too, to count them. His forced retirement from the Kingsguard since the young king found him too old and useless to protect him anymore. His sister’s colder-than-ice reaction to his return instead of welcoming him with open arms, her revulsion at his sorry state, her finding comfort in the arms of other men in his absence. 

And it wasn’t just about Cersei.

His father’s persistence to try all it would take to bind his wrist to another’s - chiding, coaxing, reasoning, emotional blackmail, sweet-talk… anything.

But more than anything else… Unbidden, his eyes found their way to hers, and there it was - his answer, the _real_ reason.

To play it safe, he decided to stick to lordly courtesy until he’d fully understood her, gauged her mind and coursed his way into her heart. “I’ve decided I no longer want a way out of my duties, Lady Brienne.”

“So this is, indeed, about your house and your father’s wishes for you.” She resumed her walk again, this time without the companionship of his arm. “If heirs are expected of you, that would mean we--”

“--would need to have children.” He doubled his strides to fall in line with her. “Without a doubt, marriage obviously implies it, wench--” his eyes wandered to her lips, down her neck and further below to her gently heaving chest “--and as your lord husband, it becomes my duty to present you with a handful, at least--”

“A _handful_?” Panic-filled large eyes gawked at him, horrified with the picture he was painting. “I can’t think of more than two--”

“Two, then, my lady.” He was already half-way through imagining a little girl wielding a sword like her mother. “If we have a daughter--”

“Oh, enough of it.” Her cheeks the exact shade of pink he enjoyed on her skin, she came to a halt, dropping her eyes to his chest, robbing him of the intoxicating effect they had on him. “You’ve raced too far ahead when I haven’t even--” She looked away to calm herself down “Do you even know what it takes to plan a family, to make babies--”

“Oh, trust me, Brienne. I do know.” Before he could stop himself he stepped closer and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “Wait till our wedding night and I’ll show you--”

“I wasn’t talking in that sense.” Her cheeks now matched the colour of the roses behind her. “How could you take the liberty to go all the way when I haven’t promised you anything yet--”

“You’re right,” he quickly agreed, pulling away, withdrawing a foot. The last thing he wanted was to put her off before this could even begin. “I jumped ahead, skipped a few steps. My wooing skills are rough at the edges, my lady, but give me a few days, and I’m certain I’ll improve to the extent of getting you to say _yes_.”

Her lips twitched in a smile - not one that said she’d surrendered to his advances, but a reaction that seemed to pick out his cocky self assurance. “You really think you can do it, don’t you? Still the overconfident--”

“You’re not averse to the prospect, that I can clearly see.” If she had wanted to deny him, she wouldn’t have come here in the first place. “But--” he searched those eyes to read her mind, to find out why she wouldn’t open up “--you’re not wholeheartedly ready to step into this yet. There’s something stopping you from binding yourself to this sacred vow. Something--”

He took her hand, and while she licked her lips and broke away from the bond of his probing gaze, she didn’t object, nor did she jerk away from his touch.

“--something, I hope,” he went on, threading his fingers in hers, “we can both overcome together and find our way.”

Her breathing began to quicken. “I have to go.”

“But you've just arrived.”

“I only came here because you tricked me into it, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime grinned at her dilemma. Her curiosity to stay on and hear him out was vying with her indignation that itched to get her out of his presence. “You came of your own accord, because you wanted to, because you’re attracted to me.”

Choosing to divert herself with a bird singing two trees away, she blatantly denied his inference. “I’m not attracted to you.”

“Oh you are,” he teased, recalling the fateful day at the baths and how aroused he’d been with just one glance at her shimmering, wet body. “I caught you stealing covert glances at me in Harrenhal, Brienne.”

“I did nothing of that sort,” she stated in pointed defence. “Your sudden presence in the bath took me by surprise. That was not attraction--”

“Holding my hand probably is, then.” Chuckling, he looked down between them. “Not that I’m complaining, wench--”

Dropping his hand like a hot potato, she turned to the other side. “That’s enough. I’m leaving. Have a good evening, ser--”

“How about dinner tomorrow night? I could take you into the city.”

Brienne had already started walking away. “I’m not coming.”

“Oh please don’t break my heart, wench.” he whined, hoping his overly-dramatic tone might bait her to grace him with another glimpse of those astonishing eyes. “Do oblige me this time and I swear I won’t talk about children anymore. Certainly not for the time being, at least.”

But she kept going. “I’m not coming.”

Jaime smiled at her retreating form. “I’m sure you will,” he said to himself. Louder, he called out to her, “Tomorrow, when dusk arrives to kiss the daylight, I’ll be waiting for you at the gate, Brienne.”


End file.
